Kiss Lots of Boys
by chinchin unicorn
Summary: Or kiss lots of girls if that's something you're into. Some sweet. Some rage. Some anguish. Probably mostly all flash fiction. Just wanted to share.
1. Steamy

**For Madi Merek's Flash Fiction Contest  
****Check it out at: wp.(delete)me/p4diqp-82**

**Prompt: Really hot picture and the word "steamy"  
****Word Count: 200****  
**

**Notes: I got 2nd place. And though the characterization is a bit vague, I—most of the time—visualize Edward and Bella...so yeah.**

* * *

Against the metal, so cold beneath my flesh, goosebumps racing from where your fingertips tickle from my shoulders to my decolletage and down, down, down. You whisper sweet, sweet words in my ear. Holding me close. Squeezing me so, so tight. Tracing the lines of my agonized longing as I trace the colors on your arms, your neck, hidden beneath your clothes.

"Here…" Your breath so warm and steamy on my face as you exhale your pleasure over and over, one thrust and then two, stepping closer, until all I can feel is the desire speeding through your veins and into mine until we're intertwined together, forever, or at least for just this moment.

"You…" I can't think. I can't talk. I can't breathe. And I hate how it all comes so easy to you. How you render me incoherent with just the barest touch of your lips, your fingertips, that pointed passion from below.

"Me…" You're teasing, lifting that perfect side of your face into that stupid sexy smirk I hate and yet love so much. Hoisting my thigh just barely. Stopping me from pulling you in. Tortured by how close you are, by how far you are.

"Now."


	2. Surrender

**For Madi Merek's Flash Fiction Contest**

**Prompt: Kissing picture and the word "surrender"**  
**Word Count: 200**

**Notes: I got 1st place here. Woo! Which also means I get to choose the next picture and word prompt. Check it out and then enter! Google: themadimerek wordpress**

* * *

You stop me. Just before the door. Surrounded by your parent's legacy. All those eyes, long dead, staring down at us, watching, judging as your hands brace my shoulders, holding on tight, stopping my escape. I glare up at your pleading eyes, so sad with determination as you fight your way closer.

"Please," you whisper, soft breath against my cheek, the cuff of my ear. "Don't leave like this."

The lines on your face deepen with worry, your hair so unruly with stress, and yet your suit, black and expensive, is still so perfect. "Move."

Desperation radiates from you. In the way you stand, blocking my exit. In your hands, so sweaty and distressed against my cheeks. Your lips, brushing and then thrusting against mine. "Please, babe. Their words mean nothing."

I feel it. In my breaking heart. My aching bones. The way my arms want to wrap around your body, bringing you back in so close to mine. Surrendering to your touch. But I can't. Not with the words and the meanings behind them flung at me so carelessly without thought, without consideration.

"Their words mean everything." You don't follow when I slam the door on my way out.


	3. Escape

**For Madi Merek's Flash Fiction Contest**

**Prompt: Picture and the word: escape**  
**Word Count: 200**

* * *

The flame in their eyes is just as strong as the one waved beneath my unlit cigarette. "Choose mine!" they all seem to say with their insistent hands and debonair smiles.

The metal, so cool against my skin, reminds me of what needs to be done, yet these men, so superficial in their need to prove their worth, so courageous against uncertainty, tickle that feeling inside of me, that need for warm, sticky red, but ignore it I must…until he comes.

Those men, they part, so fluid in their haste, as he makes his way over, his steps soft against the smooth wood. "Gentlemen," he says, barely above a whisper. "Leave the lady in peace."

Once again, beaten by the best, they turn their backs until it's only his shining ambers that remain. The single flame he ignites so close to my skin as I inhale the sweet smoke, listening as he says, "What's your name?"

A tilt of the head. A flip of scarlet hair. Exhaling a billow of obscurity right in his face. "Mister, get me out of here and I'll tell you just about anything."

He smiles, but I'm the one laughing. He thinks he's escaping.a


	4. Matters

**For The Angry Hourglass: Flash Frenzy Round 19**

**Picture Prompt of a broken tree.**  
**360 words**

* * *

I carefully avoid the jagged edges as I navigate around the broken tree. My boots sink into the wet ground around it, footsteps following me as I trail my fingers across the damaged wood where the roots were lifted from the ground when the trunk snapped. There's no coming back from this.

"When do you think it happened?" I ask him.

"Does it matter?"

"Wouldn't you want your death to matter?"

He's silent for a moment, his strong presence so close behind me. "Do we get that option anymore? I just don't want to turn into one of them." I reach back, grabbing onto his hand not clutching his weapon. He allows it for a second before gently pushing me away.

"I'll care if you die."

We share a look. His silence has never been a problem before, but here, beside this fallen creature, I see his struggle to let me know the thoughts flying across his mind. But then he pulls back. When he decides against displaying that supposed weakness.

"Bee…"

"It's okay." I turn away. He doesn't need to see the light mist collecting in my eyes.

A branch snaps nearby and both of us tense. "We should go."

I agree. It's never wise to stay in one place too long out here. Not like that's ever helped us, and it didn't this time. It attacks from the side, and we don't see it. Not until it's too late. It's snapping jaw and curling fingers hunt for its next meal as it knocks me to the ground.

I can hear him. He's yelling at my to hold on. To not give up. But it's so determined as it bears down on me, fighting my tenuous hold as I fight for my life. He comes to my rescue. Like he always does. Sprinting forward and tearing it away, but it gets the better of him and he falls.

"Run, Bee!"

I unholster the gun I rarely ever use. I don't even think I properly know how to shoot it. But it doesn't matter as I aim. Because his life matters to me.


	5. Useless

**For Musings of Alissa Leonard: Finish That Thought #45**

**Prompt: You should've stayed on the path.**  
**Special Challenge: Haunted/enchanted forest**  
**Words: 500**

**Notes: This got me the Grand Champion badge :D So I will be next week's judge. Go and write for me!**

* * *

You should've stayed on the path. Maybe then you'd be here now with your wide-blues and yellow curls, seeing the world through rose-colored glasses. How did you survive this long anyhow? He could've only done so much when all you were capable of contributing was uselessness.

He pauses, one hand against a tree, leaning his weight forward as if the universe sits on his shoulders. When he cups his forehead, hiding his eyes, I know he's grieving...again. I stifle that sigh that wants to bubble up, laying a hand against his back.

"There wasn't anything you could've done," I say. Can he hear the contempt in my voice? I need him and his crossbow, and that's the only reason I haven't left him behind just yet.

His words come out between choked sobs. "I'm sorry. I miss her so much. I should've tried harder, been stricter."

"She was always off doing what she wanted. She never took any of this seriously." The trees trembles with imperceptible peril, and I hate how he can't see it. Why do I have this feeling we haven't seen the last of you?

"I don't even know what happened. One minutes she's fine. The next she's being eaten alive and I've shot an arrow through her head."

He doesn't need to know the liability you were to us. How you were the weak link in our group. How we are better off without you. "You did what you had to do, but we can't dwell on her too much. You know what will happen if we do." The end of the world? The dead rising? That was only the beginning.

He cries, his head bowed over hunched shoulders. Pathetic. What does the universe have against me? "I know, but I can't help it. She was the love of my life."

Love. That was his first mistake, and one you took advantage of so often. Healing his heart? Saving his soul? Making sure his ghost will cross when he finally does fall prey? Bull crap. You used him just as much as I'm using him now. Because there's no denying that this man and his trigger-happy finger are great when things get a little bit too sticky.

The wind picks up, leaves falling from their precarious perch, dancing in circles on the edges of the darkness. "We need to get back on the path." He doesn't move when I tug on his arm. This time I do let the sigh out.

"I should've stayed with her. I shouldn't have let her out of my sight." You're ruining my life even in death. What do I have to do to survive? What do I have to sacrifice in order to see another day?

"Death would be better than this pain."

I act without thinking, without feeling, with only my own selfishness carrying me on because his lips don't feel like rose petals as you've described. That's when your storm begins. I should've known better. Calm yourself.


	6. Before He Cheats

**For Flash! Friday**

**Prompt: Emil Jannings in The Flesh of All Things**  
**Dragon's Bidding: comeuppance**  
**160 words**

**Notes: Got a Special Mention for world building. **

* * *

There she sits in the corner of the bar with red-rimmed eyes and pouty lips. Her dress falls off one shoulder, but she can't be bothered to fix it as she lights up her cigarette after taking a sip from her amber drink. She glances up when I approach.

And stares. "You're married."

I slip that ring off and hide it in my pocket. "Not anymore."

The elevator's progress is much too slow when my hands itch to do more besides grab at my suit jacket. She whispers, asking me if this is what I want. A glance down at the silk brushing her naked thighs makes up my already-decided mind.

"Yes."

It's my hotel room because I'm here on business, but she takes it over. There's a confidence I didn't see before. Her shoulders strong. Her eyes dangerous. Her lips red. But most of all, I don't expect the flash of metal and her words, "Your wife says goodbye."


	7. As Red As Her Lips

**For The Tsuruoka Files: Mid-Week Blues-Buster**

**Prompt: Wang Dang Doodle**  
**605 words**

**Notes: Won 1st place :D**

* * *

She flips her hair, her mascara wand, pouting her lips as she applies the deep red stain. The bubblegum smacks against her teeth as she adjusts her top, sucking all the bad bits in, pushing all the good bits out.

"You sure he'll be there?" she asks me.

"He said he would be." And I hate him more than ever when he accepted the invitation she made me deliver.

She smiles at me through the mirror. She's got red on her teeth. She notices the downward flick of my eyes and looks. She sees it too and wipes the smear away. "I don't look stupid do I?"

"You look like you're ready to kill." Her apple cheeks heat to this beautiful shade of pink that almost matches the silk covering her skin. She asked me to help slip it on it was that tight. And the goose bumps on her arm still tantalize my fingertips with their ghostly memory.

She smacks her lips, her gum, one more time, and then grabs my hand. She holds my arm as we walk down the street, huddling closer when the cool night air becomes too much. Her hair smells like coconut all pressed up against my nose like that. I can't help it when I pull her closer. She thinks I'm cold, giggling, holding me tighter, whispering, "We're almost there."

He's already in a corner, surrounded by other pretty girls, holding one of those infamous red solo cups. Their eyes meet from across the room, and his eyes do this sort of sweep over her body, ending with that crooked smile across his face. She swoons. I hold her as she sways on her heels.

"Oh my god. He's so hot."

The other pretty girls sigh, annoyance playing across their face as he brushes aside their attempts, their touches, their little whispers, their offers. She notices, vibrating next to me, those red lips perking up into that perfect smile. When he's close enough that I can smell his expensive cologne, feel his heat coming off his body, she leaves me, smelling, feeling, it too. Her hands are so small in his as he holds them gently. First in the air and then against his chest.

I'm forgotten as they immerse themselves in a world of mindless chatter until the alcohol, the nerves, the courage can build up. Other boys come up to me, and I do my duty. Talking. Flirting. Batting my eyelashes. But she's always there. In the corner of my eye. I see it when he touches her cheek. When he kisses her palm. When he whispers words into her ear so naughty she blushes the same color as her lips.

He's probably calling her sexy. She isn't. She's more than that. He doesn't know that. She doesn't know that. But I do. And no on will ever know that I do. I think that breaks my heart more than when he leads her away, up the stairs, around the corner, so that her flash of pink disappears from my sight.

I already know the feeling of imagining, of creating what they're doing in the bedroom behind closed doors. Their kisses. Their touches. Their skin bare against the other's. And it hurts too much knowing that I'll never get to do that to her. Never show her. Never tell her.

I only have the hope that when it's all over, when he crushes her with callous words and goodnights, when they climb back down the stairs, she'll come into my arms, and I'll get to hold her for the night while her heart heals…unlike mine.


	8. Garden

**Ms. CeeCee's Story Contest**

**Prompt: Garden**

**Notes: Gave my students this prompt and had their stories judged anonymously. This was the story I came up with as an example. They're seven-eight, and their faces when they realized the ending, followed by, "She found a new boyfriend?!" Giggle. **

* * *

She stood there once, the sun filtering through the falling leaves, creating a golden halo around her small body, her braid gently floating in small waves through the air with the cool spring breeze.

Her hands were tender on my face as she held me close, whispering her soft words against my skin, "We'll come back here. When it's all over, we'll come back here."

I left her, standing alone in our garden beyond the wall with only the roses and her tears as company as I traveled through lands of mud and rain and falling bullets. Every day I closed my eyes to see her face, her kind smile, the blush on her cheeks as she said, "I love you. I'lll only ever love you."

I lived for that love. When my comrades died, when my body began to fail me, when only the darkness was there to listen to our cries for help, those whispered words of loves gave me strength to carry on, to make sure I boarded the plane bringing all of us soldiers home.

I went to our garden, looking for her, wanting to hold her in my arms, so tight against my body as I've only hoped to for so long.

But the roses had died, the leaves had fallen and only her ghostly memory stood in the spot where she once promised me the world. My love? She'd found a new garden to live in.


	9. Eddie and Rosie

**Ms. CeeCee's Story Contest**

**Prompt: Garden**

**Notes: After being told my first story was too sad, I was instructed to write a funny one. This got them giggling. Something about undies and kids. Ever read Captain Underpants?**

* * *

He ran through the garden, yelling at his brothers who were too fast with their longer and stronger legs. "Georgie! Will! Wait for me!"

The older brothers snickered, stealing a mean glance between the two of them. They hated having little brother tag along with them and their friends, so they picked up speed, laughing as little brother's shouts disappeared with the distance.

Eddie stopped, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, red hot anger heating his body as he watched Georgie and Will run away. He stomped his foot. "Ugh! They did that on purpose!"

A giggle sang through the air. "Well of course they did. They didn't want to play with a little boy!"

Eddie's eyebrows scrunched as he searched for the voice. Not to the left. Not to the front. Not behind him and definitely not in front. "Where are you, girl?" he called out.

She giggled again. "I'm up here!"

Eddie was surprised to see a little girl hanging onto the branches of the tree, her soiled dress swirling around her dirty knees. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm climbing a tree, silly!"

"Well, I can see that, but girls don't climb trees!"

She growled at him in anger. "Of course we do!"

He snickered. "Well I can see up your dress!"

She screamed, letting go of the branch with one hand to grab at the hem of her skirt. Eddie's heart pittered-pattered in fear as he shuffled on his feat, his arms out wide. He would try to catch her if she fell. "Be carefull!"

"Well don't look up my dress!"

He calmed down as she grabbed onto the tree with both hands again and laughed in relief. "I was just joking. I can't really see your blue undies."

The girl froze, her face thinking and she she screamed, "You're lying! My undies aren't blue!"

He knew that. They were pink, but he didn't want her to fall out of the tree. "What's your name, girl?" he asked.

"My name is Rosie. What's yours?"

"Eddie."

"Well, Eddie, are you going to join me up here or what?" She paused and then teased. "Or can't you climb trees?"

Eddie blushed. "Of course I can climb!"

"Well then get up here!"

Eddie glanced at Georgie and Will. They were already so far away. Plus, they didn't seem like so much fun anymore, so he climbed that tree to where Rosie was.

* * *

**I was also told I was not allowed to enter the contest, so unfortunately, I'm not able to tell you if I won it or not. Sigh. **


	10. Taken

**For Flash! Friday**

**Prompt: Aliens and mailbox **  
**Dragon's Bidding: include an unpaid bill**  
**160 words**

* * *

The desert sun does nothing to sooth the bruises. Time has no business in this wasteland, so I'm surprised to see the mailbox sitting there as if it's staring at me in wonder.

In my desperation, I search for some sign of help. Nothing besides the beaten wood. The temptation to lie in the dirt and let the sun take me is almost too much to ignore.

"Are all humans as ugly as you?" I can't find it. This voice that mocks me. There's nothing but dust for miles on either side, besides the lonely mailbox. That should've been my first clue. Two green eyes peer from inside. This must be what death looks like.

"Hm. It seems I've forgotten to pay this. Who needs cable anyway?" It glances back at me. "Should I take you away?"

I'm not sure how I know. I just do. My body has left the plains of the earth. Heaven never looked so sweet.


	11. Trapped

**For the Tsuruoka Files: Mid-Week Blues-Buster**

**Prompt: You've Got Time by Regina Spektor**  
**500 words**

**Notes: Won 3rd place**

* * *

The dark whispers with danger. The cold permeates with fear. The chill that runs down my spine forewarns of the trouble ahead, behind, all around. Trapped in this cage of seduction and narcotics, I can only hold onto the wall, to the gilded bars of my jail cell, with precarious fingers and trembling knees.

These people with their fancy clothes and expensive paraphernalia are animals hiding behind their money, the haze of smoky goodness, pretending that they care but secretly wishing for the downfall of the other. Why did she bring me here? I don't have the funds to contribute nor the nerve to participate. She flourishes. Never have I seen her shine as much as she is now.

"Is that your friend?" he asks me. I don't know where he came from, appearing from black, his hands suspiciously empty.

"Yeah."

"How did you two end up here?" Is it that obvious that we don't belong?

"We know someone…is there a problem?"

"No problem. Just curious." The smile that crosses his face is almost dazzling so much so that I know he is one of them. "Hey, you want to get out of here?"

I hesitate, and he sees this. His hand is warm on my shoulder, against the bare skin of my arm as he waits patiently for me to answer. "I don't know."

"Don't worry. This party is boring anyway."

I shuffle away, but he follows. "I can't leave my friend."

"We won't go far."

"Really now…" I glance at his empty hands again. Maybe he finds his pleasures in something other than drugs. Something more carnal.

He steps back, surrendering to my silent accusation. "Nothing like that! It's just nothing like this."

He's touching me again, and it's so hard not to fall for the allure, for the charm, for the easiness that he seems to channel. I know that even though he seems harmless, he's probably the worst one of the bunch, but my traitorous emotions have me begging for that tiny bit of comfort, of empathy, of light from this dark.

"Maybe for a little bit."

Another one of those smiles. "Great!" His hand is so big that it engulfs mine when he pulls me from the wall.

We don't leave the house as I thought we would. Instead, I'm guided through painted halls and golden doors, twisting and weaving through corridors and rooms I won't remember. I'm lost, and I can't help the terror that courses through me with each step I take.

"What are we doing?" I say to him.

He glances over his shoulder, that smile set firmly on his face. "Something better."

The room is full, filled to the brim with dazed eyes and murmured words of delight, a new jail cell, but a jail cell all the same. He hasn't led me to my freedom as I thought he would. Instead, the long lines of white on the table tell me I just made a deal with the warden.


	12. Hiding Roses

**For The Angry Hour Glass**

**Prompt: picture of a bench in a park**  
**360 words**

* * *

"Be quiet, Anne Marie!" I grab at her ruddy lips. She can't seem to stop the giggles, and I don't want to be caught. Eddie doesn't know we're here. He didn't see us sneak out of the house when no one was looking or when we followed behind him on the rain bitten path. And he most certainly didn't notice us when he clasped hands with the pretty blonde girl whose name matches her blushing lips.

"I can't help myself," Annie whispers too loudly. "I didn't know my brother was sweet on Rosie Dale."

No one did. Not his mother who tried to set him up with shy Beth Parker or his father who said his business partner's daughter was a looker…or me. Not that I mattered in the long run. He's Edward Jones, recently graduated, off to law school, potential future husband. I'm just poor Lizzie Day whose father ran out on her mother, barely on the edge of womanhood. Too young to consider. Too old not to know better.

Annie giggles again, and I swear I see Eddie's eyes flick over to our rosebush, but I can't be sure. The bench him and Rosie are sitting on is too far away, too obscured by our leafy cover. I shake my head. "Annie, I swear! Eddie's not going to be too happy if he catches us."

Her blue eyes, so similar to her brother's, widen, and then she's pointing. "Look!"

I wish I hadn't. Then I wouldn't be plagued with the image of Eddie leaning in close to pretty Rosie, his lips on her upturned cheek. They stand, hands still twined together, whispering words that make her cheeks flush. They turn our way so suddenly that I only have seconds to push Annie down to the ground.

"Beautiful rainbow, don't you think, Rosie?" She nods her agreement. "I wonder if there's treasure at the end or if there's something even better hiding there."

"Like what?"

"Like a pretty girl with lips as red as those roses."

"Do you like roses?"

He pauses, smiles, and then I'm not sure if my heart should soar or plummet. "I love them."


	13. Eddie and Rose Part 2

**Ms. CeeCee's Story Contest**

**Prompt: Broken tree**

**Notes: Students wanted a continuation of the Eddie and Rosie story from last week, so I gave them this. Boy 2 said, "Ms. CeeCee Eddie and Rosie is so good. You should make it into a real book. I'd read it." Made my day. **

* * *

Eddie was scared. His mother always told never to go into the woods behind his house, and truthfully, he never really wanted to. During the day, he could barely see beyond the tree line, the thick foliage didn't let any of the sun's light in. At night, without the watchful eyes of adults and only the fear of children to fuel it, the forest seemed to come alive. Eddie swore he saw monstrous shadows emerge from the depths of the forest too many times to count. His mother didn't have to forbid him. He was much too scared to even think of it.

"Come on, Eddie!" Rose whined, pulling at his hand. He planted his feet in the dirt.

"No way! I don't want to go in there!"

"Why not? It'll be fun!"

Eddie wouldn't be swayed. Not this time. "No!"

Rose sighed, her shoulders drooped and even her long blonde pig tails seemed sad. "Fine. We can do something else" Eddie wanted to feel relieved, but Rose was very sneaky. He knew he was when her gray eyes lit up with trickiness. "I understand if you're too scared."

He was. Eddie was terrified. Who knew what lived in the woods, but he didn't want to admit that. Especially to a girl. So he crossed his arms. "No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are!" She pointed one dirty finger at him, laughing with flee as she danced on her feet. "Eddie is scared! Eddie is scared!"

He tried to push her, but she was too fast on her tiptoes. "Stop it! No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are! Eddie is a big cowardly dog. Too scared even of his own shadow!"

Eddie wasn't scared anymore. He was angry. He wasn't a coward, and he wasn't a dog. He knew should ignore Rosie, but somehow she was always able to get him in trouble.

"Oh! I'll show you!" He pounded his fists against his thighs until he was so deep in the trees that he couldn't see his house anymore. He froze. The fear returned. He whispered into the quiet dark. "Rosie? Where are you?"

Nothing but for the silence of the fog and his own heartbeat in his ears. "Rosie? Where did you go?" he called out a little louder.

This time he heard her giggle but he couldn't catch sight of her golden pigtails. "Rosie!"

"I'm over here, silly boy!" He followed her call down a path that to pulled him deeper into the woods. When he found her she was hanging onto a tree much like the first day he met her. Except this tree was broken, splintered at the bottom. Jagged edges of trunk stuck out dangerously. Rose had ignored those tips and climbed the wilting tree until she was hanging precariously over the daggers of wood.

Eddie felt his heart stop. "Rosie! What are you doing?! Get down from there!"

She sighed. "Don't be silly."

"What if you fall?"

She laughed. Eddie didn't know why. He didn't see anything funny. "Well I'll just have to make sure I don't fall then."

Eddie grunted in frustration. I don't think this is-"

Rose gasped. "Oh my goodness!" and then a scream so terrifying, so heart stopping, rang through the air, piercing Eddie's ears so hard that he was sure a giant, hairy monster had emerged from the trees ready to make them his next meal. Eddie didn't think. He just ran as fast as little legs could carry him.

"Eddie!"

In his escape, he saved enough breath to whisper, "Sorry, Rosie." But he didn't stop.

"Eddie!" Her voice got quieter and quieter the more he ran. "Wait!"

He didn't wait. Not until he had burst from the tree line, tripping over his own feet, falling into the grass behind his house. When his breath finally caught up to him everything hit him at once. Rosie. The tricky little girl with the blonde pigtails was probably dead, and he was the dummy who ran away when she needed him the most. He was a cowardly dog. He couldn't help himself when he started crying, burying his face into his hands, his tears washing the dirt away from his fingers.

"Eddie? Why are you crying?" Her voice was so small and scared.

"Oh, Rosie! I'm so sorry I left you in the woods to die!"

"Um...what?"

"I shouldn't have left you alone with the monster. Please forgive me!"

"Boy! What are you talking about?!"

That's when Eddie realized. Rosie stood at his feet, staring down at him. He jumped up. "Rosie! You're alive!"

"Well of course I'm alive."

"But what about the monster?"

She looked at him like he was crazy. "What monster? I saw a spider!"

Eddie froze, his face turning a bright red. "A spider?"

"Yeah." Rosie grimaced. "I hate spisders."

"Oh...I thought..." Eddie knew it. He was done for. Rosie was going to make fun of him so bad now.

She shrugged instead. "Anyway, let's go play somewhere else. I don't like the woods anymore."

Eddie waited to see if she was tricking him. When she walked off leaving him behind, he smiled and caught up. "Let's go annoy Georgie and Will!"


	14. Guilty Pleasures

**The Tsuruoka Files: Mid-Week Blues-Buster**

**Prompt: Here in the Black**  
**528 words**

* * *

The darkness is so stifling, pressing in on the edges of our subconscious, swallowing our good intentions whole. Nothing else exists outside of this. She swings to the beat. The light playing across her skin, the dress that's too short, too tight. Men stare. If only we could hunt them all down, tear their eyes from their sockets, bathe in their bloody distress.

The crowd parts for us as we walk toward her. Do they feel the darkness as we do? Do they fear it as much as we have embraced it?

Her hips move in circles, the dip of her back arching as her arms wave above her head. She doesn't notice when we step up behind her, but that little gasp, the way her eyes flutter, how she presses back against us, touching in places that shouldn't be touched, tells us she feels it when we grab her flesh, pressing our fingers down against bone.

The beat changes, and so does her dance. Less erratic. Less wild. More sensuous. More bold. I can't help it when our desire blooms, when her skin turns pink with the blush rushing through her body. How close her blood is to us. Our dark passenger wants her, calls to her, pulls her from the dance floor.

The alcohol on her breath stains our cheek as she presses us to the brick, wrapping a leg around our waist, kissing our exposed skin. "What's your name?" she whispers.

"Jeffrey."

"Ted."

She giggles, and we sigh in relief. "Nice to meet you Jeffrey Ted. Let's get out of here."

The drive seems too long, the anticipation too much. Her hands wander as we grip the steering wheel too tightly. There's no trust. In us. In what we would do if we let go too soon, too premature. We know what it feels like to waste a perfectly good opportunity, a perfectly good score. So we moan and we shift and we beg as she expects until finally the car is parked in our driveway, so close to our satisfaction.

She climbs over the center console, straddling our hips, whispering naughty in our ear. "I can't wait to fuck you."

"Neither can we." She's so warm against where we ache, undulating her body in a dance she had perfected at the club. We grow, and she seems to like that. If she only knew.

She likes bare skin. This woman. She doesn't waste time when the door closes, stripping us naked and then herself. The clothes mess up our clean living room. Ignore it, we think. We're almost there. Almost to her submission. Her fear. Metal against skin. In our special place. Where we'll meet our guilty pleasure.

Her lips stain our flesh as she pulls us forward. "Where are we going to do this?"

"Downstairs."

She nods as we urge her in the right direction. "Do you have protection?" We wait until she's hit the bottom landing, turning around, looking back at our shadow silhouetted in the sparse light. "Jeffrey?"

"We do, but it's not for you."

Her screams don't pierce through the wood when we slam the door shut. Time to prepare.


	15. Always Watching

**For Flash! Friday**

**Prompt: Picture of Atlanta Botanical Garden**  
**160 words**

* * *

There are some things about him that are different. There always is. His hair is not as yellow. His cheekbones are not as high. But that smile and those eyes…those are the same. Even after all these years, countless lives, appearing as young and old, he is still able to leave my insides fluttering. My mother called them nerves. I called them love.

He stops. His beauty has me silently begging for my freedom. "She looks sad."

"She would be. Lost love and everything." I know that voice. She is just as powerful now as she was then.

"Is that what it says?" The female—if that is what you would call her—hums. "I want to rescue her, free her."

"Love her" is what I wish he would say.

That laugh, the one I heard just before my green enslavement, haunts me. "In another life, I imagine you would."

In my day, we would call her a witch.


End file.
